


Scent of the Golden Witch

by NebulaPirate_S16



Category: Umineko no Naku Koro ni | When the Seagulls Cry
Genre: Cock & Ball Torture, F/M, Face-Sitting, Farting, Femdom, Rimming, Scat, Scents & Smells
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:13:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23533615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NebulaPirate_S16/pseuds/NebulaPirate_S16
Summary: (SPOILERS FOR EPISODE 2: TURN OF THE GOLDEN WITCH)Taking place in the span of time after Ushiromiya Battler agrees to do anything Beatrice desires to get the answers to his questions, but before they go down to the banquet to celebrate her revival, we see just how depraved the Golden Witch can truly be. Finding Battler undeserving of the lavish food at her banquet, Beatrice has prepared a separate meal just for him, that's been brewing over the last 24 hours.WARNING: Detailed description of farting, scat, and some CBT.
Relationships: Beatrice the Golden Witch/Ushiromiya Battler
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	Scent of the Golden Witch

\--------------------------------

“Wha-... What is... this...”

It was almost like golden leaf confetti. The interior of Kinzo’s study was filled with a golden glow, and...there was a sofa like a reception chair in front of the study desk where he could see his Grandfather’s back. There was someone on the side opposite from Kinzo as well. It was a shadow, so he couldn’t see it well. 

“...Master. I brought Battler-sama.” Genji announced upon Battler’s sudden entry. 

Kinzo responded, refusing to even glance back and avert his eyes from the chess match with Beatrice, the golden witch, the object of his obsession and desire finally before him in physical form once more.

“...Battler, is it? I’m busy thinking now... Be silent for a while...” Kinzo declared unhappily, his back still turned. It seemed that he was enjoying his match. Apparently, the opponent had counterattacked with a superb move. Kinzo seemed to be enjoying himself as he thought deeply, while occasionally laughing and groaning...A sultry voice broke the silence.

“So you came, Battler. I’ve been waiting for a while. Be silent for Kinzo’s sake. Isn’t it too early to resign, Kinzo? I could already counterattack it in several ways. *cackle*cackle*cackle*...!” That laughter reverberated Battler’s ears. It should have been his first meeting with the witch, however, he knew her. Even though it was their first meeting...he knew her from the portrait!

“Genji. Serve some alcohol for Battler. What would be an appropriate liquor for this man...?” Beatrice asked.

“...That liquor which Master has loved since the days of his youth.”

“That’s good, serve it. You did well coming here, Ushiromiya Battler. First, sit down.” Beatrice gestured to Battler to take the open seat across from her while Genji went to prepare that sickeningly sweet drink that only Kinzo would trust him with. She did not wait for the spirits to be served to continue.

“...The door of the Golden Land will soon be opened. Soon, we will have a banquet to celebrate my revival, at which I will be welcoming the witches. In the meantime, I’ll be answering your questions, as many as you like.”

Battler was ready to explode from all of the mysteries he couldn’t make a dent in, and hearing this declaration was like a cork bursting free from its bottle. An onslaught of questions flew out of his mouth, pent up over the last 24 hours of hell. 

“I... I have a bunch of things I want to ask about!! What happened on this island?! And why did incidents like these occur?! I want to ask about the closed rooms too!! What about the chapel?! What about Jessica’s room?! And the servants’ room?! And Aunt Natsuhi’s room?! And the parlor?! There’s so much more I want to ask about!! About the witch’s true nature!! Is Beatrice really a witch?!! What is your purpose, what do you want to make us do and why did you call me here?!! Answer me, about everything!!!” He finally caught his breath, and found himself pointing at Beatrice, arm fully extended in his excitement.

“Arrrrghhh, be quiet!! You think you’ll get answers if you ask?!?!” Kinzo shouted back in response to Battler’s incessant stream of questions. 

“Don’t say that, Kinzo. A fragile and fleeting spider web did protect from King Herod once. Just like there are no useless things in this world, there are no useless questions.” She turned back to Battler. 

“Veeeery well, I’ll answer all your questions. But, there is only one condition.” An unsettling grin formed on her face, but Battler was unfazed. After everything he’d been through so far, what else could possibly be worse? 

“What is it?”

“...Kinzo and I made a bet. We bet on which would come first, Kinzo thinking of a new move, or me making you surrender. I don’t feel like losing. *cackle*cackle*cackle*cackle...!”

“...D... Damn you, talking so tough!! Yeah, alright. Try to make me admit it. Try to make me admit that you’re a witch and that you can use weird, awesome, and great magic!! If I surrender, I’ll kiss you or do anything else!!!”

The witch cackled gloatingly. Then, she glared at him unpleasantly with eyes that said a man can’t go back on his word...

And the witch began to tell of everything.

She started providing answers to all of Battler’s questions. Every one made logical sense. Every one satisfied him. And Battler was forced to admit: Witches truly did “exist”.

* * *

  
\--Kinzo’s Study--

The sound of pieces gently clacking on a chessboard continued to cut through the study. 

“Hoh, what a brilliant move. So your blood, no, Ushiromiya’s blood is bad at giving up.” Beatrice praised Kinzo’s latest move the same way a parent praises their child when they manage to show the first spark of intuition at some new game. Kinzo paid no heed to her tone, lost in the rapture of being able to see her once more. 

“...How pleasant! Truly an elegant night. Ku-hah-hah-hah-hah-hah-hah-ha...!!”

“...Master, Beatrice-sama. It will soon be time for the banquet.” Genji interrupted.

“Already? That’s fast. Every night I pass with you goes by fast, the moon falls like an apple, and the sun leaps out of the river like a small fish.”

“Shall we go? It is time. Stand Battler. It is the beginning of the banquet to celebrate my revival. I’ll introduce you as my new furniture... no, as my toy. To the dignitaries among witches.”

The witch was relaxing elegantly, her feet thrown out from the sofa and sitting on top of a footrest. 

...However, the footrest wasn’t a part of the sofa, ...it was a human. Which was down on all fours...

Beatrice commanded Genji and Kinzo to go on ahead and start the festivities while she would follow shortly after. They both left the study. After that, only the witch and the dress and the furniture remained. 

“...Do you know why I am not embarrassed to show myself to you naked...?”

Battler gave no response. 

“It’s because you are furniture. Furn-i-ture. Understand? Furniture, just FURNITURE! Who would feel shame at exposing their body to an ottoman? So there is no reason for me to feel shame because of you. *cackle*cackle*cackle*cackle*cackle*!”

When the witch stood up, her jacket slipped off, just from her shoulders, falling to the ground with a thump. When the furniture respectfully approached to pick up those clothes, the witch gave it a small kick and it fell over. The furniture was afraid of what misconduct it had shown.

“Do you, as furniture, plan to force me to unbutton myself? Stand. And undo the buttons. One by one, politely. Quickly. Beautifully. With no mistakes. The guests are being kept waiting, change my clothes quickly.” Beatrice faced Battler, effectively reduced to being her slave, no, worse than a slave, an object to be used and referred to as “it”. It no longer had feelings. It no longer had sentience. It, was not truly alive in her eyes anymore, for he had submitted and gave up the contest, while at the same time foolishly stating he would do anything in return. 

Battler was about to learn the depths of her depravity. 

He swiftly removed her shirt and tie, leaving her top-half in nothing but her bra. As he went to remove her skirt, she slapped his hands away. 

“Stop. Kiss.” She said, as she pointed to the area just under her navel. It looked unbearably soft to the touch, and Battler immediately did as she commanded, gently pressing his lips against her slightly bulging abdomen, pushing in just so, and removing them with a barely audible ***smooch***. He heard her sigh faintly, along with what sounded like air slowly escaping a balloon in a controlled fashion, coming from her lower half. 

She couldn’t have...

The furniture thought as it chanced a glance at her face to read the situation, and saw her staring right back at him, eyes wide, a slight blush on her cheeks, grinning from ear to ear. 

When the smell of boiled eggs mixed with rotten vegetables hit, the furniture forgot for a moment that it was no longer human, and reacted with a grimace and sudden gag, knowing without a doubt about what she just did. 

“Continue, now, but let’s change the view for you.” Beatrice ignored his reaction and turned so that he was now facing her backside. 

Still in disbelief but forcing himself to do as he was told or face worse punishment, he began taking her skirt off to fully reveal her bottom cheeks and plain white panties with frills along the edges. They hugged her perfectly, and regardless of what just happened, he couldn’t help but stare for a second.

Unfortunately, this was long enough for her to notice. 

The heel of her left shoe rammed itself between the legs of her new furniture faster than humanly possible. A gasp was heard as the air was knocked out of him, both from the shock, and the lightning bolt that traveled from his balls and up his spine.

“As furniture, there is no reason for you to delay your commands. Especially as a result of that thing between your legs reacting to any part of my body. Understood?”

Battler was doubled-over, heaving out, attempting to control the pain. Fearing further retaliation, he moaned out a sound of acknowledgment as his eyes began to water.

“*cackle*cackle*cackle*cackle*! Yes, that look suits you. Keep your face the way it is from now on if you truly wish to please me. Now fetch me my dress. Oh but first, press your face, right. here.” The witch put a hand on her hip, thrusting it out, while the other pointed at the middle of her rear. 

Confused and in pain, Battler immediately obliged, that kick serving as a lesson to not delay or disobey anymore. He gingerly pressed his face into her behind, just enough to feel his nose touching her hole through the fabric and have the rest of his face squished by two soft, pliable mounds. 

“Goood. Know that this is not a kindness, however. Hah-hah-hah-hah- ***hnnngh!*** ” Her laugh cut short into a strain as her face twisted. Battler already feared this was the reason for her command and instinctively held his breath starting from the moment he pressed his face into her. 

He felt her anus push out against his nose, then...

***SLAM***

The wind was knocked out of him as he felt her shoe ram itself between his legs yet again, while a hand kept his head pressed between her cheeks.

_FSSSSSSSSSSPP-SPpt- **SPLPTT**_

A warm explosion of rancid air washed over his face at the same time he was forced to draw breath from having the rest forced out of his lungs. It went straight into his nose and down his throat, this second time being too much for him to bear.

“AHHHH!! What is wrong--*COUGH*cough*--with you!?” Battler shouted out in response. He would take physical pain any day, but this? This was inhumane. This was disgusting. The smell consumed his senses. Like old vegetables mixed with a hint of feces, his nose burned and he could swear his throat tightened up. He’d never imagined beyond his wildest nightmares that she would force him to smell her gas of all things. She might have been an evil witch, but he still thought that she was an attractive woman on the outside! Weren’t women supposed to value cleanliness? Weren’t they supposed to be embarrassed by something like this? 

“It’s...it’s not right! What the hell are you doing!?”

***WHAM***

Battler received a backhand across his face for his answer. 

“I already told you. It’s because YOU ARE FUR-NI-TURE! I will use you as I please! You will take everything I give you without complaint. If I tell you to support my feet, you do so without rest! If I tell you to undress me, you do so expertly! If I tell you to be my TOILET, you do so unflinchingly! AH-HAH-HAH-HAH!” The witch cackled, grabbing her furniture’s head and grinding its nose up and down her crack. 

Those last words sent a chill down Battler’s spine. She wouldn’t possibly do that, there was no way!

“I know you’re thinking that I wouldn’t possibly do that, but clearly you need a lesson in just how serious I am.” Beatrice stopped grinding him against the fabric of her panties but did not let up her grip. 

After what felt like an eternity, he felt her push out again, but this time there was no noxious blast of air. He heard her straining, until a small sound was heard--

_spllpt- ***crckkk***_

“Inhale. Now. Then take these soiled garments off of me.” 

He inhaled, and nearly vomited on the spot. She confirmed for him about what she just did, but he would have been able to tell without any kind of truth, red or otherwise. She felt him retreat slightly and pushed his face in harder in response. His nose sank into something warm and soft, and his tears started to flow freely. This couldn’t be happening, how could this actually be happening? 

Beatrice finally let up and shoved him away from her onto his back. She waved her pipe, and golden butterflies took the form of a leash in her hand, and solidified to make just the same object. 

“Put this on. We are going to the banquet once you clean me up, and this is the only suitable dress for you.” 

* * *

“Where do you think you’re going?” The leash tugged Battler backwards as he started to crawl towards the open door, assuming they were heading down to the banquet. Confused about what else she could possibly want from him after being forced to smell her worst scents, and now completely nude and exposed besides a single chain leash. Exasperated, he turned around to crawl back to her feet. 

“I said it’s time for the banquet, and we can’t have you starving during our grand entrance, can we? The food down there isn’t for the likes of an incompetent failure like yourself!” Beatrice yanked on Battler’s chain pulling him up so that his face was pressed against her lower abdomen, her other hand pulling his head back by the hair so she could look him in the eyes to see the moment that his dim-witted mind finally comprehends what was about to happen. 

“Lucky for you, I’ve been suffering for your sake the past 24 hours, all to ensure that you would get your own, personal meal, win or lose, and that it would be ready in time.” She subtly moved her hand from his hair to gently stroke her abdomen next to his cheek. As if on cue, it let out a low, bubbling growl, and her smirk deepened. “I’ll give you one last hint in red if it isn’t perfectly clear to you yet. **I’ve already made you smell your upcoming feast.** ”

There it was, the moment his eyes went wide and his pupils constricted showing his understanding of a horrible truth. His mouth agape, he froze at her words, unable to believe she would subject him to something like that. That vile, that degrading, that disgusting. He would rather be killed and brought back repeatedly than this, no...there was no way she was implying what he thought. Wouldn’t such a thing be equally degrading to her? To actually have another person...see her in such a vulnerable state, to smell and--gods, nearly gagging at the thought--consume her waste? He tried to fight back with logic. 

“You can’t be serious. You’re not the kind of person that would let anyone else see them do something like that! I won’t believe it!” Battler croaked out through grit teeth and a forced smirk, even with a collar pulling on his windpipe. 

“*cackle*cackle*cackle*...! You think such a thing would be degrading or embarrassing for me? Did I not already establish at the start, how I feel nothing, even when stripping in front of you? You’re nothing but my furniture now! Should one be embarrassed each time they use the toilet? Does one think about their porcelain throne gazing up at them while they expel into it? The only degradation to be felt would be the furniture itself, if it could still somehow feel human emotions, human senses, retaining their sentience, fully aware of everything! Of course, God would not be so cruel. Aren’t you lucky that you’ve met a witch who could bring this unique cruelty to fruition? Aren’t you excited for this unfathomable torture, Baaaaatleeeeer???” 

His smirk faded and any composure he had left cracked. 

“Calm down, it can’t be that bad, can it? After all, aren’t I your type? A busty blonde using you as she wishes? I’ll let you in on a secret that you never asked for, but in his youth, Kinzo asked for this very treatment at one point! *cackle*cackle*! Like grandfather, like grandson! Maybe if you spun the chessboard around, you could put yourself in his shoes and gain some enjoyment out of it! *cackle*cackle*cackle*cackle..!” Beatrice pushed Battler onto his back, and waved her pipe to have her dress vanish into a cloud of beautiful golden butterflies. She was now completely nude, towering over Battler like a succubus. She walked over to stand right above his head, looked down for a moment to cherish his fear, and slammed herself down on his mouth, facing him so that she could enjoy his expressions during the ordeal. 

“ **Hngh**..! G-go on...use that chessboard logic fast now. Understand your Grandfather’s point of view for your own sake!! You’d better do it fa- ungh...” 

_fsssssssht- ***SPLLLPT***_

Beatrice involuntarily cut off mid-sentence as a pressure cramp forced her to bear down, her hole starting to balloon out against Battler’s open lips, releasing a burning fart that ended up splattering his face. The smell of her impending movement quickly pervaded the room, causing a moan of pain from the new furniture now fashioned as a temporary toilet.

“Ungh...I need to...hey, start cleaning my ass, now.” Beatrice said as the pressure started to mount. She would stretch this humiliation to the farthest it could go before she let go of all restraint and allowed her body the release it so desired. When she felt nothing in response, she reached back and squeezed his testicles. Hard. That was the only threat required.

It was almost orgasmic when she first felt the tip of his tongue slide across her strained, quivering hole. The nerves were so lit up from the exertion of keeping everything in, that the warm and wet slickness which dragged itself across that opening almost caused her to lose control and push out right then and there. But she held it. 

“T-there, furniture. Make sure...I’m completely clean before I soil you.” Her left eye twitched slightly as she forced herself to keep composure in the face of such perverse feelings. His tongue flattened out and dragged itself back and forth across her bulging hole, sending waves of pleasure that changed her breathing. She thought about how he must be tasting the remnants of that last expulsion, her mind becoming lost in the torture.

“Clean me. Make sure...you get inside as well. Do it fully and completely.” She soon felt his tongue straighten out in order to prod the middle of her entrance. She had to go so badly that she felt it might come out right then and there if she even let it open for a second so she could feel his tongue wiggle in. She said these next words to herself, and to give her slave the dread of what would come next:

“So be it, like Grandfather, like Grandson in all things, even... ***NGHH*** when it comes to poor gambles!!” 

She pushed out, feeling immense pressure wanting to both go out and press in. In that instant, the warm wetness of his tongue forced itself into her rectum, and she knew by the panicked cry which danced across her ears, that it had met resistance. She looked down, and saw nothing but wide-eyed fear, and his breath was now quick and erratic. 

She felt herself start to drip from the scene she had crafted. Everything was in place, and all the actors were right where they needed to be. As her furniture’s nose started to become slick with her juices, she commanded him to remove his tongue. 

“Good furniture. Now here’s...your just desserts! Kya-hah-hah-hah!!!!” She said as she tightened her stomach muscles and pursed her lips in concentration. 

Instead of another fart, her knot stayed in its expanded state. She relaxed and sat full weight, making it impossible for Battler to close his mouth even if he wanted to. The bliss she started to feel was indescribable. She felt her hole begin to widen, and she felt the mass of feces start to crawl past the exit, with nowhere for it to go but the back of her new living furniture’s throat. 

Her head became numb. She was actually starting to poop, and everything else lost her focus besides this one primal act that took her entire attention. The first of Battler’s screams started as his tongue accidentally licked the tip of the mass, which only made her shiver, and give another guttural push in response. She felt the futile resistance he put up even now, his tongue desperately trying to push it back, the disgusting, sticky bitterness overwhelming his taste buds being the lesser evil, rather than having it completely fill his mouth only to be forced into his stomach. 

She toyed with him. She collected herself and clenched ever so slightly, letting him use his tongue to try and push it back up her ass. She felt him have very minor success, feeling some pressure moving back against her still quivering opening. She would let him think he could save himself. She would let him calm down for just a moment. Then, when she’d reached the limit of how long she could entertain his hopes, she only said one thing to him. 

“Battler.” She readied herself and rested both hands on his head, preventing all movement, looking at his tear-streaked face still struggling to keep her shit away from his mouth. He was sobbing, looking for any shred of mercy in her eyes. She stroked his cheek like a mother comforting a child, and for a moment, he calmed down.

“Eat it.” Suddenly, with intent and force behind it, she bore down and gave an earnest push to finally go without any restraint. Unable to even rock his head out of the way, his mouth forced open by her full weight resting on it so much that he felt his jaw would break, the turd he had worked so hard to push back up blew past his tongue and rammed the back of his throat. He tightened his neck muscles in another desperate bid to prevent the unthinkable. However, with Beatrice now trying to shit without restraint, his still roomy cheeks offered the path of least resistance, as he felt them fill out with a warm, soft, bitter mess. He cried out once more, hoping to find a shred of compassion, but instead saw her with her eyes closed, just straining. 

He wanted to vomit. His mind became a blur of raw desire to gag and vomit and empty everything that was filling his mouth right now. As he looked back at her, the contrast of such a beautiful face, even now, making something so vile, caused his head to spin. He felt light-headed and dizzy as he actively started to choke on her shit. Noticing this, Beatrice became angry with him and moved her hands to his now bulging cheeks. 

“*cackle*cackle*cackle! You don’t get to die now! I still need to show off my new furniture, and our guests are being kept waiting now, all because of how poorly you’re performing as a ***grunt*** , toilet! If you think this is torture, I have a thousand more things to make you wish this was your only job for the rest of eternity! *cackle*cackle*cackle*cackle!!” 

With that, she pressed in on his cheeks. With nowhere else for it to go, her still sitting full weight on his mouth, he was forced to swallow. He thought he would die right there, choking on her waste, but miraculously it went down and he could still breathe. A loud ringing began to fill his ears, and spots filled his vision. The last thing he remembered as he willingly blacked out, was her insane grin and the overwhelming taste of her waste. 

* * *

He was roused from unconsciousness by a hard kick to the side, and a voice telling him to start walking on all fours. Was all of that just a dream? No, soon after he realized they were still in Kinzo’s study, the leftover taste of what had happened lingering in his mouth. He gagged, but was stopped by a hand around his throat. 

“Listen. You will not vomit. It was hard work getting the rest down while you were dead, but you forget I’m the endless witch. Now that you’re good and full with a part of me inside of you, you will present yourself beautifully to my guests as my absolute slave and toy. There is no more pride or dignity you can have after what you just did. You will walk--crawl! And you will praise my name on this very special night, or face even worse hells. Is this understood?”

She let go of his throat and let him suck in air and nod vigorously. And with that, the night of horrors to celebrate the witch’s revival would begin. 

\--END--


End file.
